We're Going Down
by CrystalIceLover
Summary: His headaches began to intensify around the time her time began to run out. Life as a FBI agent is never easy, but this case might make it a little bit harder. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the character's or the show Criminal Minds. I only own the idea. **

**Summary: His headaches and hallucinations began to intensify around the time her time began to run out. Life's never been easy for the BAU, but this case might make their lives that much more difficult.**

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I listened to the soft hum of the jet's engines as I read my textbook on the mechanics of materials. Well, I tried to read it. I couldn't concentrate on the book at all. Morgan, Seaver and Rossi were having some conversation on a green hornet behind me. I was tempted to correct them; hornets, the largest of the eusocial wasps, do vary in colour from brown, black and purple to yellow, but never green. Hotch sat across from me talking to someone one the phone-most likely Jack- and staring out the window with a warm variation of the glare he seemed to look at everyone with. I guess he desperately needed to talk to his son or he'd never be able to get his mind of the case we'd just finished. It had been terrible. Most of them are. But this one was particularly gruesome. Seven pre-pubescent boys were found dead in the span of two weeks in the beautiful city of Boise, Idaho. We'd found one boy alive, Jake Fauler. I know what we do matters. I see it in the faces of the police department when we bring the unsub in. But the faces of the parents and other loved of the seven who will never be able to live out their lives... bringing the unsub in doesn't change their fate. They're still gone and there's nothing that can be done about it.

I tightened my grip on the book I was holding. Maybe it wasn't just the case bothering me. It was almost the same as it was two years ago. I was sitting in this same seat on this same jet, but instead of Hotch sitting across from me, it'd been Emily Prentiss. We'd been flying back from our case in Colorado, where she'd been beaten by the unsub, Benjamin Cyrus. I'd felt guilty about it, even though deep down I knew he would've killed me if I'd said I was the FBI agent. The difference now was that I really didn't have a reason to feel guilty; I just had an uneasy feeling. Emily hasn't been seen since we finished our last case three weeks ago. Each of us, especially Garcia, has taken turns calling both her house and cell phone, but none of us could get through to her. Maybe I'm just over-reacting. She could be fine. Maybe she decided to go on a cruise or something to that effect, and left her cell phone at home. Even though it didn't seem like something Emily would have done, it was still a possibility that hadn't been ruled out. But the problem was, this same thing happened to Gideon almost three years ago and then he left the team, leaving behind a letter for only me. Elle had been shot four years ago and I'd known there was something going on with her, but I didn't act soon enough and she left us too. And earlier this year, the DOD decided to promote JJ to the Pentagon. We knew what we signed up for; we all know that this job was dangerous. Everyone on this jet has been attacked by an unsub at one point in time. The idea of another member of our team being attacked hurt. It'd happened to me enough times that I didn't wish it on anyone else, not even my worst enemy, and especially not someone I care about.

I felt the plane begin to slowly descend and an hour later found myself back in Washington DC gripping my overnight bag tightly in my hands as I walked off the plane. The bright light and it's reflection off the snow everywhere forced me to close my eyes and fumble for my sunglasses. Sensitivity to light. Soon I was going to be experiencing headaches and hallucinations, just like in Miami. Heart beating fast, I walked into the BAU headquarters. Walking over to Garcia's office, I gently tapped on her door. She turned around and smiled at me. "Boy genius, what brings you to the office of the Queen of all Technology?"

"I was wondering if Emily had called you," Garcia's turned around to face her computer screens and I walked over to her to watch her type away quickly.

"A call from our raven haired co-worker I have not received. However, I have traced her cell phone and it is currently at her house. If you were going to go look for our favourite Prentiss, I advise you to start there. When she returns my calls, I shall call you," I thanked her and walked towards my desk. Sitting down I began to plow my way through pages of paperwork, glancing up at Emily's desk occasionally. I heard Hotch call out my name and I looked up to see him standing outside his office watching me with a look that greatly resembled concern on his face. He walked down the stairs and stood above me asking, "Reid, are you alright?"

"I'm fine...I just can't get mind off the case." I said quietly, wanting nothing to be left alone so I call Emily again, just to make sure she was ok. He took another hard look at me, almost like he knew why I wanted to get away, and gestured for Morgan to come over. Once he'd joined us, Hotch said, "I want you two to go to Prentiss's apartment. Check up on her. Make sure she's ok,"

I nodded and Morgan turned towards me as Hotch walked back into his office, exclaiming, "Pretty Boy, I'm driving!" before walking towards his car as I followed behind him.

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**So, the first chapter is complete. Tell me what you think of it. All kinds of comments are welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Go to chapter 1**

**Wow. Thank you so much for the reviews. I did not expect to get many reviews, and I know two really isn't that many, but a review is a review, so because of all the nice reviews, you get chapter 2. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

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I sat down in the passenger seat of Morgan's car as I waited for him to hurry up and start the engine. I looked out the window shield, staring at the grey wall of the FBI parking garage. I couldn't stop moving; my fingers danced across my lap and my eyes darted back and forth. I heard Morgan finally put his keys in the ignition and heard the car roar to life. He began to drive out of the garage and I took a deep breath as we began to move towards Emily's apartment. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Morgan looking at me. I turned towards him and he turned back to the road saying, "You've seemed sort of distracted ever since we've gotten back,"

"Morgan, we just got back. This is the first time you've even spoken to me since we arrived in DC."

"Reid, we're profilers, we know things just by looking at you," He turned towards me and widened his eyes to prove his point.

I smiled slightly before I felt a wave of pain overtake my head. I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes quickly. I didn't need this; not right now. Not when we had no idea what was going on with Emily. I leaned back and slumped into my chair, tapping my foot against the car door. After what felt like forever, I caught a glimpse of the Washington Monument completely surrounded by snow, which was custom for January in the North-eastern United States. Emily lived seven blocks away from it, so by then, I knew we were close to her apartment.

When Morgan parked his car, I pushed open the car door and staggered outside. Fresh air does not help migraines at all. Those medical papers online lie. Pulling on my sunglasses, I walked through the door inside to Emily's apartment complex with Morgan in front of me. Outside the elevators, Morgan grinned at me and asked, "Hey Reid, want to use the elevators?"

I smiled slightly, remembering the last time I'd been in an elevator with him. I declined and walked up the stairs. Five levels later, I found myself out of breath with a throbbing head beside a still grinning Morgan. How could any non psychopath or sociopath keep a smile on their face when it doesn't take a FBI profiler to figure out that I'm in pain? My lungs were on fire and my head felt like the Challenger Space Shuttle 72 seconds after liftoff. I stood up straight, trying to regain my composure and knocked on the door in front of me. Pulling my badge out of pocket, I heard Morgan do the same beside me.

A reddish-brunette woman answered the door. Before either of us could say anything, her eyes darted to our badges and she began to talk quickly, "Officers, I am sorry, but I think you have the wrong house. I've done nothing illegal—"

"Ma'm?"Morgan interrupted her softly and began, "we aren't here because of anything you might have done. We're co-workers of Emily Prentiss who lives down the hall from you and we were wondering if you've seen her recently?"

"Oh," was the reaction we got from the woman, who identified herself as Cheryl. She shook her head and glanced past us towards Emily's door. "I haven't seen Emily in a few days. I just assumed she was out of town on a case with you guys." Morgan glanced sideways at me for a split second before nodding to Cheryl. She smiled at us and closed the door.

Morgan turned towards me and asked, "So what do we do now?" rubbing a hand through his non-existent hair. It took me a few moments in my aching plight to realise he was waiting for me to answer. I looked up and said hopefully, "You could always break down her door."

He raised an eyebrow at me and said, "why don't you try it, you smartass?"

"I was shot in the leg," I said, feigning a sense of calm that I didn't feel while pointing to my leg.

Morgan rolled his eyes and walked towards Emily's door. He knocked on it and called out to Emily. Behind the door, I heard a very faint noise. It was almost impossible to figure out what it was though. Shaking my head slowly, I tried to ignore it, but that wasn't working. It just kept getting louder and louder. I looked over at Morgan to gauge his reaction and was relieved to find a look of- well I couldn't figure out what emotion he was showing. But a reaction is a reaction. At least I know I'm not hallucinating. I walked over to Morgan and pulled out my revolver, arms shaking slightly. I nodded to Morgan and he broke down Emily's door. And then I was attacked.

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**Gasp. Our Reid was attacked. What will happen to him? And what happened to Emily? All these questions and more will find answers in later chapters. As always, all comments are welcome!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: At the beginning of chapter 1.**

**Wow. Thank you for all the kind reviews. You keep me motivated. You guys deserve cookies. But because it would be weird for me to show up at your houses, I'll give you the next best thing: chapter 3.**

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One of the first things you're taught at the FBI academy is that when in the face of adversary, you don't let go of your weapon when it's raised unless you like the idea of it accidently going off and possibly losing a leg. The other thing they teach you is that you don't lower your weapon unless you're sure the attacker is restrained or dead. Well, I momentarily forgot the first rule. When a black blur bowled straight towards me, my revolver fell out of my hands. It fell to the floor with a dull thud as I fell over. I sat up, blinking at Morgan, who I could tell was having a hard time keeping himself from laughing. He lifted my attacker off of me with his hands and I felt colour rising into my cheeks as I stared at the kitten who was meowing angrily st me. Standing up and brushing myself off, I looked down at the black kitten again.

"Emily mentioned to me that she'd gotten a cat named Sergio. And the first time I meet him, he decides to attack me. You know, even though most people think that black cats are bad luck, the British believe that they're a symbol of good luck. The Scottish believe that they bring prosperity into a household and it was also believed that a woman with a black cat would have many suitors. They're also associated with anarchy" I said, rubbing my head.

Morgan simply nodded at me and turned towards Emily's apartment. He let go of Sergio, who hissed at me one final time before disappearing inside. I retrieved my gun to find that Morgan had already entered her house. I scampered after him, only to find him standing slightly inside, turned towards me, holding a hand up. I quieted down and we slowly began to clear her house. I found Sergio curled up on Emily's bed. Other than that, nothing looked like it'd been touched in the last few days. I regrouped with Morgan in Emily's kitchen. He leaned against her counter while I sat down in one of the chairs by the table. I ran a long finger across the table and thought of what to do next. I thought back to what Garcia had told me earlier. Emily's cell phone was here. Standing up, I began to search the kitchen for her cell phone. Morgan looked up at me and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Garcia told me that Emily's cell phone's in her house"

Morgan nodded and walked into one of the other rooms in her house. Searching through her living room, I found her cell phone beside a letter. Quickly reading the letter, I found that it was addressed from an Ian Doyle, who'd written asking if she'd liked the flowers he sent her and that he'd be there to see her soon. The weird thing about the letter was that it wasn't addressed to Emily; it was addressed to someone named Lauren. Glancing at her phone, I noticed that she had almost twenty missed calls from different members of the team. It seemed like the last call she'd received and had actually talked to someone was me. I'd called her a week ago because I'd noticed she seemed kind of off. She'd been distracted, so I'd called her to see if she'd wanted to talk about it. She'd told me she was fine, but I hadn't bought it.

Turning around, I was about to call Morgan when my voice died in my throat. There was a pool of blood in the corner of the room with more dripping from the ceiling. I swallowed hard and called out to Morgan, my voice shaking slightly. When he appeared in the door frame, I held out the letter and cell phone to him and watched him read the letter, trying to ignore the blood in the room. When Morgan finished reading the letter, he looked up at me."Do you have any idea who Ian Doyle is?"

"I've never heard of him" I answered truthfully, watching Morgan. He took the letter, folded it five times, and put it in his pocket.

He looked at me and said, "We should get back to Quantico and get this to Hotch,"

I nodded and followed him out of out of the room. Before leaving, I stopped to glance back at the pool of blood. Morgan hadn't acknowledged it, so it was most likely a hallucination. Taking a deep breath, I walked back into Emily's bedroom and picked up Sergio. Thankfully, he was asleep so he wasn't going to hiss at me again. Until we found Emily, Sergio was going to be all Garcia's.

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**As always, all comments are welcome!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: First Chapter**

**Thank you a million times for the kind reviews. You guys help me write faster! And because Mindspsychoaddict asked for it, here is a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Take one!**

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35 minutes later, I found myself in Rossi's office pacing. "So Hotch went home. How could he go home when we have absolutely no idea what happened to Emily and he turned off his phone? Did it just slip his memory that this happened to Gideon and then he left and no one's heard from him since?"

Rossi watched me from his seat behind his desk, the letter in his hands. Glancing down at it he said, "You do remember that Aaron has a son, Jack? Wait," he said raising a hand as I opened my mouth to rebut that claim, "of course you remember you have an eidetic memory. The world doesn't revolve around Prentiss. Not everyone's going to stop whatever they're doing to go find her. However," he said, quickly noting the cold glares he was receiving from Morgan and me, "we are still going to find out who Ian Doyle is."

Morgan spun around in the chair he was sitting in to face the older man. "So you don't know who Ian Doyle is either?" his voice emitted a sense of sadness. He might not show it as much as I did, but he cared about Emily as much as I did.

Rossi shook his head at Morgan's question and looked at the letter again. "So what do we know about this Ian Doyle so far?" "

Well," I began, stopping pacing and raising my finger unnecessarily, "If we're assuming he has something to do with her disappearance, then he's most likely arrogant and narcissistic. If she didn't already knew he was after her, she did after reading the letter."

"On the other hand," Morgan began calmly, "he might not have anything to do with her disappearance. For all we know, he's an old friend who's back in town. Nothing in the letter makes it seem that he was out for blood." Blood... I instantly thought back to the pool of blood I'd seen in Emily's brownstone and also of Elle, after she'd been shot by Randall Garner. I shivered slightly and decided to go find Garcia to find out what she could dig up on Ian Doyle.

I walked into her office and was greeted with a glum "Hey Reid," I looked at Garcia. She had Sergio in her lap and was stroking him, tapping her foot against the floor impatiently.

"Garcia, are you OK?"

She looked up and nodded before shaking her head, a flurry of blonde curls sent flying. "A member of our family is missing. How can I possibly be alright when we have no idea what's going on with Emily?" She turned away from me towards her computer screens as I reached out to awkwardly pat her shoulder.

"Garcia, we are going to find Emily. And when we find Emily, she's going to be alive." I have no idea why I just said that. I know that the chances of that happening aren't very high. Actually, out of the 719,558 people who went missing in 2009, only 38,843 were ever found. 18.525% But an unknown author once said that when the world says "give up", that hope whispers, "try one more time."

"Morgan and I found a letter from someone named Ian Doyle in Emily's apartment-"

"And you want me to find out who he is? Sure, Boy Wonder, you know I'd do anything for you and my chocolate god," she smiled slightly, returning back to her eccentric nature, and I watched her dig through databases upon databases until she found his file. A gaunt looking man stared at Garcia and I.

"Well that is not someone you want to see first thing in the morning." I glanced sideways at Garcia, brow furrowed, "why not?"

Garcia didn't reply, she just looked at me and began to shake her head, laughing.

"What?" I asked, my voice getting higher pitched as I stared at her. She recovered her composure and grinned at me. "You're not going to tell me are you?" I asked as I sat down in a chair beside her.

She shook her head again and turned back to her computer screen. "Wow, this guy sure has a rap sheet. He was put in jail by Interpol seven years ago for a number of murders in Europe. Apparently he went after his victims by crashing into them and while he did that, injected them with the drug Premarin which can induce blood clots. And he-" Garcia froze and I looked at the screen and read out loud what Garcia couldn't, "He broke out of jail three weeks ago."

All colour drained from Garcia's face. She took deep breaths and began to furiously type away, looking for something online. Then, a list popped up on screen.

"This is the list of people who put this monster in jail. I'm going to call each of them up one by one and find out what-if any connection Emily had with this investigation."

I nodded at her and walked back to Rossi's office. Looking around the room, I noted that Morgan had left. Looking at Rossi, I asked, "Where'd Morgan go?"

Rossi turned away from the window and looked at me, "He went to get something to eat. What did you find out from Garcia?"

"Ian Doyle is a serial killer who broke out of prison three weeks ago and can't be found. Garcia's trying to contact Interpol right now for more information,"

"So, what does this serial killer want with Prentiss?"

I shoved my hands in my pockets and said, "Well that's what we have to figure out isn't it?"

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**Will she be found? Only time will tell!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: First chapter, where you most likely have seen in since you're own the fifth chapter.**

**Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. All of your kind reviews mean so much to me, you have no idea. So without further ado, here is the fifth chapte. (On a side note, how many of you guys actually read my notes at the beginning at the end of the chapters?)**

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I sat down at my desk, tumbling and turning the Rubik's cube in my hands over and over. The fastest solve of a 6x6 Rubik's cube is 2:13.90 by Bence Barat last year. However, I couldn't concentrate on beating his record. I was still thinking about the letter Emily had been sent. We still had no idea who Lauren was. He couldn't be addressing Emily by her middle name, because her full name was Emily Vera Prentiss. Glanced at the cube in my hands every few seconds to make sure I wasn't ruining my progress, the sound of approaching feet made me stop and glance up to be greeted by Morgan. He was carrying a bag of Chinese food, which he handed to me. Looking at the bag and then back at my teammate, I placed the bag on my desk and I said, "I'm not hungry Morgan,"

He pulled a chair towards me and sat down, watching me. I turned my attention back to my Rubik's cube, uncomfortable being watched. I subconsciously rubbed my aching head. I was still experiencing headaches; they weren't as bad as they'd been before, but they were still bothering me. Solving the Rubik's cube, I placed it back on my desk and glanced in the direction of Garcia's office. She was still working through the list of Interpol agents and the wait was not helping my already stressed nerves. Looking back at Morgan I realized that he was waiting for me to say something.

"Did you say something?" I asked, as a burst of pain erupted in my head. I felt like someone had taken a mallet and was beating me with it. I felt worse than the time I'd been kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, experiencing drug withdrawal and when I'd caught anthrax combined. Through the foggy haze my sight had been limited to, I looked at Morgan. His facial features were all distorted, but I could still make out his words.

"I said that starving yourself is not going to help anyone. It'll be even harder to find Doyle and Prentiss if you can barely stand up."

"Actually hunger strikes have worked in the past. They worked in Bulgaria from 1925 to 1929 and Bolivia in 1978. Not that I'm on a hunger strike," I muttered, desperately trying to see through the literal fog clouding my vision. I stood up, saying something about needing to go to the washroom and stumbled into the men's room. Staring into the mirror, I realized that I could barely see two feet away from me. Rubbing my eyes weakly, I wished I had my glasses. It was always possible that the contacts I was wearing were irritating my eyes, causing my vision to blur. Pulling my contacts out of my eyes, I was forced to face the truth that I was hallucinating. My vision was worse, but there was no reason I shouldn't be able to see. I placed both palms against the counter and stared hard at my refection. _I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I am not crazy. _There was no change at all in my vision, or rather, lack of. Was I suddenly expecting my hallucinations to stop? Before they had, but this was different. I couldn't just walk away from this. I took a deep breath and walked out of the washroom. Hearing the sound of feet, I looked up and vaguely made out the silhouette of Garcia standing outside her office.

"My dear feathery friends, I have information from the International Police. I got no answer from Jeremy, Tsia or Sean but that isn't surprising because of the time difference between here and Europe. Clyde Easter picked up and informed me that Emily worked with Interpol and went undercover to put our creepy letter writer in jail on 2004. Sadly, that was all he said. But if any more information is given to my ears, it shall quickly be given to my comrades."

I somehow made it back to my desk and unsurprisingly, found the shape of Morgan still there. Sitting back down, I rubbed my eyes, my head still pounding, like a hammer had been taken to my skull. I heard Morgan speak my name and looked up at him. I couldn't see him that well, but I knew he was looking at me. "Reid are sure you're alright, because you look terrible,"

"I'm just not feeling well. Headaches." I half lied. I was feeling terrible, but not just because of the headaches. I faked a smile and tried to get up to go home but was stopped by Morgan.

"If there is anything you want to talk about Reid, you know I'm here, right?"

I nodded and looked at Morgan again. If I could barely see in front of me, I'd get killed on the subway going home. I closed my eyes as another wave of headaches overtook me. Opening my eyes, I asked Morgan if I he'd be OK with us talking at his house or anywhere quiet.

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**Aaw, poor Reid's hallucinating! I wonder what else is going to happen to him. Oh, wait...I have the power to decide what happens to him. I feel so powerful. And If you're wondering Mindspsychoaddict, my challenge fic should be up either later today or tomorrow. **


	6. Chapter 6

**You guys are amazing. I feel like I'm just repeating myself, but it is true. And because you guys mean so much to me, here is chapter six. **

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I strapped myself into Morgan's car, surprised that I'd been able to make my way from the BAU office to the FBI parking garage. Before I left, I'd made it into Garcia's office, half-blind, and asked her if she found anything about Emily's whereabouts, she'd call me immediately. After making her promise, I stumbled towards Morgan's car with him in tow. So now I was being driven _somewhere_ by Morgan. Turning to look in his direction from the passenger seat I asked, "Hey Morgan, do you think we could go to my house? I need to get something,"

Having tossed my contacts in the men's room, it was almost impossible for me to see. I made out Morgan nodded in response, not taking his eyes off the road, as I slumped deeper into my seat, headaches threatening to make me lose my mind. Hallucinations and headaches, two positive symptoms of paranoid schizophrenia. Seeing as my mother had it, I had a much higher chance of getting it. Even though it tends to show up in teens and young adults, I was most likely spending too much time getting injured for it to show up. There's also a 50% higher chance of being diagnosed because of my history of drug abuse. If I had it, I'd lose my job and either be put on medication of put in a sanatorium. I closed my eyes, trying to drown out the sound of Washington by focusing on multiples of 12. But as suddenly as they had started, my hallucinations just stopped. Sure, I could still barely see as I opened my eyes, but there was no fog anymore. Just blurriness of faraway objects associated with myopia. Sitting up a touch straighter, I watched landmarks of Washington pass by. Morgan asked me, "Hey, Reid, so what is up with you?"

"Um, the car roof, many different gases in the air, like carbon dioxide, oxygen of course, hydrogen, water vapour, krypton..." I looked at Morgan and figured out that that wasn't what he'd meant.

"Oh, you meant how I'm doing! I'm OK I guess. Just a little stressed out because Emily's disappeared, we can't reach Hotch and..." I trailed off, picturing the BAU headquarters in my head. "Kid?" I looked over at Morgan to see him watching me. I was about to tell him to keep his eyes on the road when I realized it was a red light he was stopped at. "Morgan, have you seen Seaver since we got off the jet?"

Morgan shook his head and said, "She said she was going to visit her mother back home, why?"

I shook my head, before answering, "It just seems weird that when Emily disappears, we can't contact two members of our team, that's all,"

Morgan began to drive again as the light turned green, "That's not all, kid, and you know it," I looked back at him, watching him park in front of my apartment, desperately hoping that he hadn't figured out that I'd been hallucinating.

"Reid, we're all stressed out and scared. But you're acting like there's something else going on. So, I'll ask again, what's wrong?"

I stared outside, watching the lights of DC for a few minutes before answering, "I'm not feeling well-"

"So take time off," Morgan said quietly as I turned towards him, an expression of shock on my face,

"I'll take time off when we find Emily alive," I opened the car door and squinted, making out the blurry building I lived in and walked towards it. Hearing Morgan behind me, I began to walk faster.

Entering the building, I tore up the stairs as fast as I could, only to find Morgan leaning against the door frame. When he saw me, he began to speak, "kid, you need to calm down. Yes, I know it's not going to be easy to find Prentiss with Hotch MIA and Seaver on a holiday, but we need to know that you're not going to lose your head."

I turned towards my door and opened it, grudgingly letting Morgan in. Inside, I headed into my bedroom, picking up my glasses from its place on my nightstand and put them on. Walking back towards Morgan in my living room, I began to speak, "I'm perfectly calm. But trust me; I'll be better when we find Emily,"

I was about to sit down when the phone rang. Morgan picked it up, glanced at the caller ID and then at me. "It's Strauss," he said, holding the phone out to me.

My eyes widened and I said, "You pick it up,"

"It's your house; she'll want to talk to you,"

"Fine," I said, snatching the phone out of his hand. I pressed talk and put it up to my ear.

"Hello, Ma'm," I squeaked out, my eyes darting around wildly, as Strauss spoke up,

"Spencer, have you informed Ambassador Prentiss that her daughter is missing?" I frowned slightly and replied,

"No...Why?"

"Because Spencer," she sighed, "Do you not think she deserves to know?"

"Well, of course she does...but why do I have to call her?"

"Because the rest of your team can not be reached," I looked over at Morgan and said, "What about Morgan?"

"Spencer, just call her," with that, she hung up. I pulled the phone away from my ear and said to Morgan, "she hates me,"

"She's like that to all of us. Don't take it personally," he advised as my phone rang again. Picking it up, I heard my name and almost dropped the phone. Walking towards Morgan, I put my phone on speaker and choked out, "E...Emily?"

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**There's really nothing I can say without giving too much away. But as usual, all reviews are welcome. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: By now, you should have figured it out. And seen it, seeing as it's at the beginning of chapter 1. **

**Yes. You're not hallucinating like Reid. Chapter 7 is really up. Unless this is only a dream and I just incepted the idea into your head. But it's not. OR IS IT?**

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I swallowed hard, sitting down beside Morgan. I was happy to know that Emily was alive, but why she was deciding to call now, when we've been worrying over her for a few weeks was something I needed to ask her, but where she was more pressing. "Emily," Morgan spoke, staring at the phone like it was the only thing keeping him alive, "Where are you?"

"Morgan, I...I wish I could tell you. I just wanted you and Reid to know I'm OK."

"Emily, you have to tell us where you are," I said quietly, almost pleading with her to change her mind. I glanced over at Morgan and mouthed the words 'Call Garcia'. He nodded at me and pulled out his cell phone. Staring back down at the phone in my shaking hands, I forced myself to take a deep breath, steady my hands and concentrate on Emily's reply.

"Reid, if I could I would. I...I can you call my mother and tell her...tell her that even though we didn't get along most of the time when I was younger, that I still love her and could you tell my dad, that I get now why he wasn't around when I needed him the most and that I forgive him."

"What are their phone numbers?" Morgan asked, snapping his eyes off his cell. Emily calmly told us and I committed the phone numbers to memory. Sure, my eidetic memory applies more to things I read then hear, but I'd be calling them in a few minutes, so I was sure I'd be able to remember the phone numbers.

"Emily," I whispered, tears stinging in my eyes, "we're going to find you-"

"Reid," she snapped and made abruptly cut me off, "I don't have that much time and I need to ask you something. When Hankel kidnapped you, were you ever scared of him?"

"O-off course. His father's personality almost killed me. He _did_kill me and then his actual personality resuscitated me. I died in that cemetery and almost stayed dead. So yeah, I was terrified he was going to kill me before you guys showed up,"

Morgan looked up at me, a plethora of different emotions swirling inside me. I glanced up at him as Emily spoke up, "Reid...but you're here now, so that makes up for it. I wanted you and Morgan to know that I'm fine-"

"How exactly are you fine, when we have no idea where you are?" I was starting to get annoyed with her evading my questions.

"You guys have Garcia, don't you? Anyway, I want you guys to know that I'm not scared of Ian Doyle." She was cut off by the sickening sound of flesh against metal that echoed throughout my house. Both Morgan and I cringed and when Emily spoke again, her breaths came in short laboured gasps, "He won't kill me. That would be too easy. He wants me to suffer."

With that, I heard a gunshot over the phone as the line went dead. I stared at my phone for a few minutes, dimly hearing Garcia mention over the phone through tears that the phone had been turned off, so she only had a rough idea where Emily was, but that she was in Price George's County in Maryland. I turned my phone off as Morgan thanked Garcia and turned to me as I began to frantically call Emily's parents. Neither of them picked up and I left them messages for them to get whenever they found their phones. I stood up unsteadily and Morgan said, somehow being able to stay calm as tears streamed down his face. "Reid, call everyone on the team and tell them to get to Quantico as fast as they possibly can." picking up his car keys from my table, he glanced at them grimly before stating, "I'll drive,"

I nodded and walked out of my apartment behind him, locking my door behind me. The car ride back to the BAU seemed to take forever as I painstakingly began to call each member of the team. Garcia was still in her office, Rossi had gone out for dinner, and Hotch had finally picked up, saying that Jack was sick. When he heard what had happened, he promised to get to the BAU as fast as he could. Seaver was in Bismarck with her mother and said she'd take the next flight back to Washington. Hanging up, I hoped that they would hurry and most of them would be at the BAU by the time we got there.

When Morgan parked in the garage, I quickly stepped out of the car and jogged into the building. Stepping out of the elevator, I found only Garcia and Rossi in the bullpen. Walking over to them I asked, "So you're the only ones here?"

They both nodded and I walked away from them to look for a map of Maryland. Finding one, I put it up on the empty white board in the room. Picking up a marker, I circled Prince George's County. Turning towards the three members of our team that were present, Rossi asked, "So, that's where Prentiss is?" While nodding towards the county I'd circled.

I nodded in response and turned back towards the map, "Yah, that's where Garcia traced the call to. In Maryland alone, there are over a hundred abandoned buildings. In Prince George's County, the most famous abandoned building is the Glenn Dale Hospital. It was a tuberculosis sanatorium that was shut down in 1982," I shifted slightly on my feet. Sanatoriums simply brought back the idea of me being a schizophrenic. I pushed the idea out of my mind; I needed to focus on the task at hand. Turning back around, I said, "I think we should search there first."

I turned towards the door as I heard someone walk in. Hotch stood in the doorway, glanced at all of us and asked, "What have you found out?"

Rossi turned towards him and informed Hotch on the situation. Hotch turned towards me and asked, "There are no other abandoned buildings in Prince George's County?"

I shrugged, "Glenn County Hospital is the most famous, but there are probably more..." I faltered, glancing at Garcia, who deciphered my look and said, "I will go see if there are any other creepy buildings in the area. If you're looking for me, I'll be in my lair," she sped off towards her office and came back a few minutes later, "OK my feathered friends there is a multitude of buildings no-one wants. To list a few, there are the American Trucking Association building, the Mt. Airy Plantation, the Montpelier Mansion, a battling ground in Bladensburg, and Mary Surrats Tavern and many many more. The kicker is that all these places are reported haunted. So who knows, maybe you'll see a ghost,"

Garcia's attempt to lighten the mood failed miserably. None of us so much as smiled. Hotch looked at Garcia and asked, "Could you contact the local authorities and see if there's been a spike in recent activity at any of the sites?"

Garcia nodded and was walking towards her office when Morgan spoke up, "Want help with that, Baby Girl?"

Garcia turned around and the smile on her face was all the reply Morgan needed. He walked up the stairs towards her and they both vanished into her office.

I sat down and inquired to Hotch, "How's Jack?" He blinked at me before answering, rubbing his hands together tiredly. "He has the flu, but he finally fell asleep. Jessica's with him right now in case he wakes up though. How are you holding up?"

I held his gaze, hoping against hope that he wouldn't be able to tell I was lying. I doubted it. He _was_a profiler after all. "I'm...I'll be better once we find Emily."

"Reid, you know that there's always this chance that-"

"-That we'll find her dead? I know the odds, Hotch. Only 18.525% of missing persons are ever found." I turned away from him towards Morgan and Garcia who had reappeared.

"The only place with more activity than usual for a hotspot for rumoured haunted house was Glenn Dale Hospital." Morgan said, glancing at me before returning his gaze to Hotch.

"So we go there." Hotch replied as we began to move towards the exit towards the SUVs. I glanced outside the window as I walked out, pulling my coat on. The snow had begun to pile up.

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**Will they find her? Will Reid tell anyone about his headaches? Will Seaver show up? Do you guys want her to? All will be revealed soon. All comments welcome and I would like to know if yu guys want Seaver to have a large or minimal role in this. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: It's at the beginning of the fanfic, which you should've seen by now.**

**Thank you everyone for all the kind reviews! You guys make it easier for me to write faster (except when I have writer's block, but that's a different story)**

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I stared at the buildings in front of me, shuffling my feet as I suddenly became more conscious of the team-or the remnants of what was left of it anyway-standing around me, trying to keep warm as the wind began to blow harder, whipping snow around us and making it very difficult to see more then 2.7 feet in front of me.

Glancing over at Hotch, I waited for him to speak, to say anything, and give us the OK to storm the Glenn Dale building. He returned my gaze and asked calmly, "How many building is the hospital?" How he's able to stay so calm when we have no idea if Emily's even alive makes me envy him. But those are the qualities he possess to make him a great unit chief.

"The Glenn Dale Hospital is 216 metres squared with 23 buildings. The first building," I pointed at it before continuing, "is the-"

"-Reid, we don't need to know what every building did," Rossi interrupted. I glanced at him before turning towards Morgan behind me when he spoke, "So how exactly are the four of us going to search 23 buildings?"

"Metro PD is supposed to meet us here. So we're going to wait until they get here."

"Hotch," I said, slightly frustrated, "We're in the middle of a snowstorm. It could take them hours to drive here if they got stuck somewhere."

"So what do you want me to do?" he turned in my direction, fixating me with that cold glare of his with an edge to his voice, "I can't make them get here any faster,"

I opened my mouth to reply but was drowned out by the sound of cars approaching. Turning towards the sound, I saw police cars drawing near us. Muttering, "finally," I walked towards them beside Rossi and Morgan. Greeting them, we pointed them towards Hotch. After the police chief conferred with Hotch for a few minutes, each of us were told to search a building and if we found anything or anyone, to radio into your chief.

I was assigned to the Incinerator building. I pulled my coat around me tighter. As thick as the Kevlar vest was, t wasn't helping me stay warm. Trudging through the snow, I desperately hoped that Emily was still alive. I wondered if this was what the team had felt like when I'd been kidnapped by Hankel, unable to do anything and feeling like nothing they could do could help me. They watched me on that webcam die not unlike how I'd heard a gunshot through the phone...forcing myself to walk faster, I sped up, focusing on how many snowflakes were falling. The Incinerator building lay in front of me. I walked towards it, being careful not to slip down the ravine running alongside the building. Glancing at the ravine, something caught my eye through the swirling snow. I pulled out my flashlight and shone it into the gorge.

The first thing I saw was dark hair. My heart jumped into my throat as I stood there, wondering what to do. I was supposed to radio in, but if this was a hallucination, I'd lose my job if someone walked over here and saw nothing. On the other hand, it could be a trap. I moved my flashlight around, trying to see if I could see anything or anyone else around. To no avail, I couldn't see anything else. I only had one option. I was suffering from auditory and visual hallucinations. So if I touched whatever was there, I'd know if it was real of not. I sighed and exchanged my flashlight for my revolver and began to climb down the gorge.

When I reached the bottom I pulled my flashlight out and began to move towards what I know realized was a body. Swallowing hard, I made my way towards it. I froze when I heard the click of a gun behind me. I quickly spun around to see a gun in my face being held by an individual with a white mask on. "What are you doing here?" the harsh whisper was undeniably Irish and I glanced down at what I was now sure was Emily. Whether it actually was her or a hallucination was something I would be finding it out if it wasn't for the man in front of me.

"Me? Oh, I was just walking through and saw her," I pointed towards Emily. I tensed slightly, a part of me wishing it wasn't Emily so I'd be brushed off as crazy, but I hoped it _was_her so I could be sure I wasn't hallucinating. "You're lying. You want to know how I know that? The Kevlar vest gives you away," he advanced at me, but I didn't move. "oh, so you're a tough guy, aren't you? Well let's see how tough the big bad FBI agent plays when he's dead."

With that, a gun went off and I flinched, but opened my eyes a few seconds later when I felt no pain and saw the man on the ground face down. I looked up the gorge and saw someone making their way down. A few moments later, Rossi stood beside me, looking at me grimly. "What are you doing here?" I pointed wordlessly as Emily and Rossi's gruff expression melted as he walked quickly towards her. Squatting down, he felt for a pulse before looking up at me. "She has a pulse. It's weak, but she's alive."

I sighed in relief, holstered my gun and walked over to Rossi. We'd carefully turned her over, when two things happened: my head began to pound again and a voice spoke up from the shadows, "You killed Dundon,"

I exchanged a quick glance with Rossi and we both turned around to be greeted by Ian Doyle. He stood in front of us, a gun pointed at Rossi. "No sudden movements," he ordered, "either of you," with a glance at me, "Or else, you'll find yourself with bullet holes through your heads. Courtesy of either me, or my friends up there," he nodded behind me and I turned around to see three other people in masks.

I turned back around as Doyle began to speak again, "I told Lauren Reynolds-oh wait, you know her better as Emily Prentiss-that I wouldn't hurt her team because you're innocent. But that was before Dundon was struck dead," glancing at the body between us before looking back at us, a strange grin on his face, "Innocent no longer."

With a glance at the unsubs behind us, they advanced, restraining us with handcuffs. It was four against two; if we'd fought back or radioed Hotch, we would have been killed, no doubt about it. And with my headaches, I wouldn't be that much help for Rossi anyway. They took us inside the Incinerator building, where no one would search seeing as I was supposed to be searching the building. Now handcuffed to pipes with a guard sitting beside to make sure we didn't communicate, we suddenly had a lot of time on our hands.

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**Innocent no longer...I love that line. What will happen to Reid, Rossi, and Prentiss? You have to wait for chapter nine for that... **


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: It's at the beginning of the first chapter. You should know this by now.**

**Chapter nine has arrived. What will happen to the team? Read and find out. This chapter's kind of short, but next chapter will make up for it. **

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Waiting. The word is derived from Old North French meaning waiter, to watch. Rossi and I did both of those things as we hoped and waited for someone to show up. After twenty-seven minutes, my radio crackled to life. "Reid," Hotch's voice filled the room, as our guard walked over to us and watched us. A mask still on our attacker's face, the body language was what told me that if I answered, it wouldn't be very pretty. Hotch spoke my name again, louder this time, before his voice faded into static as Rossi's radio turned on and Hotch spoke his name twice, before turning off. The masked unsub kneeled in front of me and carefully pulled my radio off and then taking Rossi's.

Glancing at the radios in gloved hands, both were dropped and shot with a gun before the unsub turned and walked towards Doyle who was sitting on the other side of the building. I didn't waste my time trying to concentrate on what they were saying. My head...I'd been shot, drugged, caught anthrax, kidnapped, and I'd never been in more pain in my life. Medicine was desperately something I needed. My eyes snapped open. I knew Doyle had drugs, if he thought of injecting me with anything...I don't care what it is, but I wouldn't let him. I glanced at the floor in the middle of the crumbling room where Emily lay. Her pale skin contrasted the dark floor as her hair was splayed out beneath her, dried blood dotting her clothes. I looked in Rossi's direction. He was the hostage negotiator here; shouldn't he be saying something at this point? He looked at me for a moment before sighing and speaking, "You mentioned before that you told Prentiss that you wouldn't hurt us-"

Doyle swiftly interrupted him, walking towards him, "I believe that you're misinformed. I said I wouldn't hurt her team because what she did isn't your fault. But that changed when you decided to end Dundon's life. Oh, don't worry," he continued, glancing at me, "I won't kill you. Because then you'd only experience the pain Dundon felt." he licked his lips before finishing, "No, you'll experience what Dundon felt tenfold. Both of you,"

His gaze swept in my direction and Doyle smirked coldly as he slowly approached me. Crouching down, he raised his hand to run it across my cheek, but I flinched and his smirk became a grin. "Don't think that just because you didn't fire the bullet that killed Dundon that you get to leave, Dr. Reid." he shook his head slightly, as I kept my gaze on him, wondering how he knew who I was. "You tried to play hero," He paused to push my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes, "But what has she ever done for you?"

I swallowed, staring into brown eyes full of malice and hatred, before whispering an answer, "She saved my life,"

"She saved your life," Doyle repeated mockingly, standing up. "Funny, seeing as she would sell out each and every your precious team to save her life," turning to Rossi, he said, "David Rossi, hostage negotiator, one of the founders of the BAU, married and divorced three times. How's your daughter doing? Oh wait, she drowned, and her FBI agent father could do nothing to save her," he began to laugh, coldly and humourlessly as I stared at Rossi.

He'd had a daughter. If what Doyle had said was true, and from the expression on Rossi's face I could infer that it was, I could understand why he'd told Emily, but not the rest of us. He'd never mentioned a daughter, just like she'd never mentioned a father until earlier today. I glanced back at her. Could she have really told Doyle that just to save herself? Either way, if she didn't get medical help fast, she wasn't going to live to see tomorrow.

I was so absorbed in my own world that I didn't notice that Doyle had kneeled beside me until he began to speak to me again. "And then there's you. Graduated from high school at the age of twelve, you're a genius with a higher IQ then Einstein. But all that grey matter in your head can't save your mother."

Halfway through his little speech, my headaches began to intensify even further. I closed my eyes and began to take deep breaths to keep myself from screaming. It was like bright lights were going off behind my eyes, making it even harder for me to concentrate on his words. It was like he was 150 miles away from me and trying to communicate with me because his words were turning into static. But his last sentence got through the static. I opened my eyes and squinted up at him, "What are you talking about?"

"It looks like Bennington Sanatorium is withholding information from you," he moved towards me and this time I was in too much pain to move away. "She's dying-"

"NO" I glared at him, my voice coming out louder then I'd expected and ringing in my ears, "You're lying to me!"

He shrugged, "It doesn't matter to me if you don't believe me or not. You won't live to find out." he pulled a syringe out of his pocket and held it out. The unsub behind him walked over to him and took the syringe from him. The unsub spoke for the first time glancing from me to Rossi, "So, who's up first?"

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**Who is this unsub? Is Diana Reid really dying or was is a Doyle lie? Who will be injected with whatever is in that syringe? You'll find out soon! All reviews and criticism is welcome!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: You amazing readers should know that it's at the beginning of the story, where it's been for a month. This is simply procedure.**

**So, we're in the double digits. Woot! I have no idea how much longer this is going to be. But it'll be at least ten more. I think. Anyway, just enjoy this chapter. Worry about how many more there will be later. **

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I hadn't expected that. Not the unsub's voice or _her_words. Female kidnappers usually kidnap newborns and obviously, neither of us were newborns. But then, this case was different from most. Emily had obviously done something to Doyle for us to end up in this position.

"Well?" her voice was now impatient as she stamped her foot, reminding me slightly of Jack and Henry when they were having temper tantrums. It was them, Hotch and JJ that I thought of as I spoke up.

"Me," I glanced over at Rossi when he spoke at the same time as me.

"Well then, this is a definitely an interesting change of events," Doyle spoke up from his 'perch' by a window. He walked over to us and swept his gaze over us before whispering in the unsub's ear. She sat down between Rossi and I, watching us coldly.

I flinched and moved away from her, even though I'd rather have her inject me with whatever she was holding then sit here and watch Rossi be injected. I ignored the sharp pain that made my head feel like it was about to crack open as Doyle snaked towards me, a matching syringe in his hand. "Seeing as you both so desperately wanted to be injected with ricin," he sneered at me, "we thought we'd honour your wishes,"

He knelt down beside me and rolled up my sleeve as I shivered at the touch from his icy fingers. Being handcuffed, all I could do was struggle against him, which proved to be pointless as I was still injected anyway.

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As the wind howled, I paced, agitated. I was standing in the cold in the middle of a blizzard with Reid, Rossi and Prentiss missing. I stopped pacing in front of Hotch and asked again, "You're sure-"

"Yes Morgan," he sighed tiredly and continued, "I've radioed both of them. All I get is static."

"The thing I don't get is that e know which buildings Rossi and Reid were searching when they disappeared, yet we're not going there first,"

"Ian Doyle, if he's here, has to know by now that we're searching the compound. It would make the most sense, if he has Reid and Rossi, to put them in a building that's already been searched and found empty because he thinks that we wouldn't look there first."

Hotch's theory made sense. As narcisstic as we'd profiled Doyle to be, he wasn't disorganized. "OK," I agreed, pulling out my Glock 17 as I spoke, "let's start the search for this bastard and pray that our team stays intact,"

With the help of Metro PD, we began to clear the first twenty-one buildings again. I couldn't help but miss Reid; had he been here, I could just imagine him informing us of the purpose of every building as we walked towards them.

Having just cleared the twenty-first building, I leaned against it, exhausted. It had taken an hour to clear them all once, but clearing them all over again had taken longer. It wouldn't be long until the sun rose. I felt a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. Fear. Completely uncontrollable fear. I was scared-no terrified-that something had happened to Prentiss or Reid or Rossi.

"Hotch?" I called, watching him carefully as he wrung his hands before speaking in a low voice that only I could hear, "I was wrong," he looked at me, fear painted on his face, "I could've just cost them their lives. I should've listened to you..."

"Hotch," I spoke determinately. I needed to keep myself calm. For the both of us. "You trusted your gut and went with it. They are going to be fine, but only if you calm down and lead us," Hotch nodded, calming down and walked over to the police chief. They chose the Incinerator building, the one Reid was supposed to clear to search next.

We approached the building. Hotch took a deep breath, motioning for us all to be quiet, and entered the building with me behind him. The building was completely vacant except for three bodies near the back. I felt my heart jump into my throat as I cautiously approached them, double and triple checking that our unsub wasn't going to jump from the shadows and attack us.

When I was finally assured our safety, I rushed towards my teammates' sides. With a glance at each of them, I could tell that they were all alive from the faint, or in Prentiss's case, very faint, rise and fall of their chests. Rossi and Reid were slumped against large, metal poles that they were handcuffed too. I turned towards a few police officers, who were kneeling beside Prentiss or Reid and telling her that she'd be ok, and asked, "Do any of you have a bobby pin I can borrow?"

A brunette police officer wordlessly handed me one and I began to pick the lock on Rossi's handcuffs, all the while, talking to him, hoping he'd say something back. Once I'd unhandcuffed him, EMT's lifted him onto a stretcher and I began to work on Reid's handcuffs. Opening them, I stepped back to let the medics do their jobs. Walking out of the building, I asked Hotch if he knew which hospital they were being taken to. He replied that the ambulances hadn't left yet and that I could always ride in one of them. Thanking him, I boarded the ambulance with Prentiss in it, sending a silent prayer that all of them would be all right in the end.

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**Act 1: comlete. Now the fates of the characters truly begin to come together. All reviews are welcome. Oh, and it might take me awhile to write chapter eleven. Why must real life exist?**


	11. Chapter 11

**I am so sorry for taking a month to write this. It's probably going to take me longer to write chapter 12, especially with exams around the corner (eww). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter as much as I did writing. More so, really. Love it more than I do. Especially this chapter. Writing this made me realize that I have no idea what a filler chapter is. I know what it it, but I won't write one. They kind of bore me. Trust me, this is not one of them. I love all you guys for the reviews, and all reviews (flames and all, I know I'm getting them from this chapter) are welcome. Well, enjoy!**

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I fluttered in and out of consciousness over the next few...hours? Days? I really wasn't sure how long. I was so tired and even though I could have pulled myself out of my unconscious state, I didn't want to. I didn't want to face the reality of my headaches and hallucinations. I didn't want to wake up and learn that either or both Emily and Rossi was dead because of me.

After a while, I decided to open my eyes. I was unsurprisingly, in a hospital room. On a chair beside my bed, Morgan was eating a piece of cake. I muttered, "Cake. You're eating my cake. Every time I'm in a hospital, you eat my food."

He looked up at me, a smile dancing on his lips before informing a doctor that I'd woken up. Sitting up groggily, I rubbed my eyes weakly."What happened?" I asked, turning to the doctor standing over my bed.

He glanced at the clipboard in his hands before replying, "You have a mild concussion, a few cuts and bruises and a bit of swelling on the back of your head. You should be back on the field in a couple of weeks."

"A concussion...?" I rubbed the back of my head, and true to his words, there was swelling there.

I winced slightly as my head began to hurt again. There was nothing about ricin in the report the doctor had given me. It seemed like it'd been a hallucination. If that had seemed so real and been a hallucination, how could I tell reality and a hallucination apart? I could still feel Doyle's icy fingers against my skin.

I could feel my heart begin to pick up as my thoughts turned to Emily and Rossi. Had Rossi even been there?

"Reid," I glanced towards Morgan as I heard his voice. He was still eating my cake. Leaning back, I rubbed my eyes again. Was Emily OK? Had she even been there, or had that also been a hallucination? I'd put my faith in Dundon noticing her, but if he'd been a hallucination too...

I tried to ignore my name being called again, but this time, it was accompanied with the feeling of being shook, which forced me to...open my eyes?

I blinked up at a blurry Morgan, who was hovering over me, his hands still gripping my shoulders. Letting go of me, he said that my heart rate had sped up pointing to the monitor. Picking up my glasses, I glanced at the heart rate monitor, watching it fall and stabilize at 75 BPM. Sitting up, I eyed the doctor who'd walked into the room. "Spencer Reid..." he stopped to read from his clipboard, as I tapped my fingers against my bed. This was reminding me of my dream a little too much. I felt nauseous and my arm hurt. I've felt worse, but it still hurt, "You've been injected with ricin. Symptoms include flulike symptoms and pain around the injection site." he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and continued, "Sadly, there are no antibiotics that can heal you-"

"So I'm going to die?" I squeaked out, staring up at Dr. Martino (it's on his nametag) fear etched out on my face. I glanced over at Morgan, who was staring at the doctor just as I had been, but with an angry expression instead of a fearful one. "There has to be _something_ you can do!"

He sighed, looking at his clipboard. "I hadn't finished yet. There are antibiotics to prevent infection, which can be given easily." he pulled a bottle from his pocket and tossed it at me. What sort of doctor throws things at patients? I fumbled to catch it and it rolled towards my feet. Morgan picked it up and handed it to me. Glancing at the bottle, I asked, "How long will I be here for?"

"We'll keep you a few days for monitoring, but after that, you'll be free to go, "he smiled at me before walking out.

Turning towards Morgan, the first thing I asked was: "How are Emily and Rossi?"

"Hmm?" Morgan looked up and me and answered, apparently having a delayed reaction, "Oh, they're both doing well," He stood up to leave, "You're leaving?"

He turned around, smiling slightly, "I'm not the only person who wants to see you,"

I nodded, asking him if he could give me my clothes. Handing them to me, he left the room, to be replaced by Hotch minutes later. Looking up at him, I spoke before he got a chance to, "You want my gun and badge."

He frowned at me, "What?"

"You said after the Owen Savage case that if I endangered my life and the lives of the people around me that you would have to fire me. I endangered my life and Rossi's. So here," I held out my gun and badge to him, watching his expression clear as he sat down.

"I don't want your badge and gun Reid,"

I looked up at him, slightly shocked, "Reid," he began, "Had I - or any of the team - been in the same position that you were in, the outcome would've been more or less the same. And I know Strauss is going to come down hard on all of us, but.."

He stopped talking when I reached over and hugged him. After I let go of him, we talked for a while before he said that he had to go check on Jack.

Garcia ran in and was subjected to a bone crushing hug. "Garcia," I gasped for air, "I can't breathe,"

"Sorry," she let go of me, sitting down on the edge of my bed, tears staining her face. "I'm just glad you're alright. With Rossi and Emily..."

"What about Rossi and Emily?" I sat up straighter, waiting for a reply as Garcia rooted through her lilac purse. Looking up at me, she took a deep breath before asking, "You're feeling good, right?"

"I'm nauseas and my arm hurts, but I'll be better,"

"Ok," Garcia fiddled with her purse strap before looking me in the eye. "I...it's Rossi and Prentiss. Rossi's dead and Prentiss' in a coma,"


	12. Chapter 12

**No, my dear subscribers, you're not hallucinating like our favourite boy genius. First off, thanks for all the reviews! It makes me feel good:) There really is a new chapter. Like you, I'm surprised I wrote this. I really need to start studying for my exams...but you guys don't care. All you guys want is more We're Going Down, so without further ado, I present you chapter 12.**

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Pulling open my front door, I stepped into my apartment, taking small steps before closing the door behind me, rubbing my head. For the last three days that I'd been in the hospital, trying desperately not to attract attention from the doctors and nurses as my headaches got worse and worse. Ever since I'd learned of Rossi's death and Emily's comatose state, it's as if a switch went on, making my headaches feel like a jackhammer was being pressed to my head, even though headaches (or migraines in my case) are caused by pain in the neck muscles. Sitting down on my couch, I dug my fingernails into the upholstery, shaking. It's my fault that this happened. If I hadn't went down into the ravine because I was scared of Emily being a hallucination, she would most likely not be in a coma and Rossi wouldn't be... I took a deep gulping air of breath. Despite my feelings of guilt for having not radioed in to Hotch, I know that I would've been sending them straight into the ambush Rossi and I had been caught in. But we wouldn't have faced such difficult odds if all the officers and the team were with us. Even though I'd went through a cognitive interview first thing this morning and the Red Cell was working around the clock to try and find Doyle and identify the female unsub, I was still nervous and doubting that they'd be caught. And I wouldn't be feeling so tortured, guilty and craving again. Why is it, that when I see someone die, that I start craving? When Ryan Phillips died three years ago, I'd craved. When Emily disappeared, I'd begun to crave again. And now that Rossi was dead and Emily in a coma...I was experiencing them again.

Sitting up with a sense of finality, I made my decision. I walked into my bedroom and began to dig through the drawers, for once not caring about the state of my belongings. Fishing out what I was looking for, I held them both in my hand, feeling the weight of it as I spun it around my fingers, not unlike the way I had with the Rubik's cube just days ago, even though it felt like an eternity. I stared at both of the coins for a few minutes. I had the one year coin I'd been given by John after a Beltway Clean Cops meeting and I had the three year coin I'd earned. As much as the pain was eating me up inside, I wouldn't turn back to drugs. Besides, Rossi, even though I wasn't really sure if he'd even known about my addiction, wouldn't have wanted that. And I know for certain Emily doesn't. Putting the coins back, something rectangular and black caught my eye. Pulling it out, I realized that a tape had been placed in my drawer. Having no recollection of placing it here, I flipped it over and over in my hands, looking for anything that would identify it.

After a while, I found Emily's name written in her handwriting. Frowning slightly, I walked back into my living room and carefully placed it into my VCR. Shaking slightly, I sat down on my couch, picking up and clutching the remote in my hands. Part of me was desperate to find out what Emily had left me, but at the same time, I was terrified. I couldn't get the image of her lying in a hospital bed, bruised and broken out of my head. I was so scared of losing her like I'd lost so many other people in my life. If she died, this video could tarnish my memory of her.

Staring at my TV screen, I made up my mind and pressed play. I was greeted with the image of Emily on the screen. She took a deep breath and spoke, "hey," waving slightly at the camera.

"If you're watching this, and either have no idea where I am, or I'm dead, or I'm fine and just haven't got around to getting this out of your house. You can still watch this, but I don't think it'll have the same sentimental value. Hypothetically, let's say that I've disappeared and that Ian Doyle has something to do with this. I worked for Interpol for years before I joined the FBI, and at one point, I went undercover," she grimaced, but continued.

"As Ian Doyle's fiancée, Lauren Reynolds, who died in a car crash. He's going to come after me, now that he's broken out of prison and when he does, he'll have a hell of a fight on his hands, I promise you that. All I wanted to say was that you guys mean the world to me and you need to hear it." she smiled at the camera and I suddenly noticed tears running down her cheeks. In the four years that I've known Emily, I've never once seen her cry. I was about to turn off the VCR and TV when I heard Emily say my name. I looked up, terrified of the pressing idea of another hallucination, but calmed down when I realized that it was my TV. This portion had been taped later in the day, I dully noticed before she addressed me again before beginning to fiddle with the buttons on her sleeves, "I know that your dad abandoned you and your mother when you were ten, and Gideon left, and Agent Greenaway, who I never knew but knew that you blamed yourself for her departure, left too. JJ left earlier this year, but I want you to know that I understand that it won't be easy for you to deal with me leaving. No matter how I leave, I know that you're going to have a harder time dealing with this than everyone else. Reid, I am so sorry for having disappeared but I need you to understand that I'm doing this so that Doyle doesn't go after all of you. Because if anything happened to any of you..." she cut off abruptly, beginning to choke on her sobs. She was able to look back up at the screen and utter another 'I'm so sorry,' before my TV screen went black.

I sat there staring at my tv for at least five minutes before lying down on my couch, slowly breaking down. Her words...I couldn't help but cry. She was so sorry...but in the end it wasn't her fault. It was Doyle's, the unsub and mine. Shaking, I forced myself back into a sitting position, my mind still hearing her tell me how sorry she was, accompanied with the dull throbbing of my head. I slowly began pulling myself out of a painful revere, staggering towards my phone. If she'd left this in my house, then she'd most likely put on in our other teammates, and they could all help us track down Rossi's murderer. I clutched my phone in pale fingers, staring at it before deciding on dialling our team leader. I began pacing, desperately hoping that he'd pick up his cell phone, "Hotch," I said when he picked up, not waiting for him to speak, "You need to search through your house for a tape from Emily."

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**Not really much I can say, except I can ask you sweet readers to review. Your review can be as firey as you want, I don't care as long as its your honest opinion. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello my dear fans! Here is chapter 13. Thank you for all the reviews! They're so kind! Well, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

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After calling each member of our team, I'd taken the subway from my apartment to the FBI buildings, where I waited for the rest of the team at my desk rubbing my painful head. I really should've taken Advil or another kind of ibuprofen before I left my house. Now I was reaping the consequences. Shuddering, I let out a sigh as I leaned back in my chair with my eyes closed. I needed to concentrate on something...something that wasn't my headaches or had anything to do with Rossi or Prentiss.

My mind floated towards the topic of how tapes where invented. Really, they were videotapes that had been invented by the BCE. It had been demonstrated to the world on November 11, 1951 in L.A. and had displayed blurry images. A year later, the image quality had improved to the point of resembling a motion picture. In 1955, a colour version was created. Over the next few decades, it was improved to become like the videotape in front of me. Hearing the sound of footprints behind me, I spun the chair around before opening my eyes. All I could see in front of me were the distant shapes of people walking towards me. Everything was completely blurry. Taking a shaky breath, I waited nervously for them to approach me.

Finally making out the shapes of Hotch and Garcia, I waved to them, "Hey,"

I vaguely made out Hotch nodding to me and Garcia walked over to me and hugged me. "So," she said when she'd released me, sitting on my desk, "I found the DVD and watched it..." her voice was overtaken by the choking of tears.

I stood up, narrowing my eyes to try and see her trough the fog obscuring my vision. I ended up just patting her on the shoulder, telling her that it would be ok once we found Doyle and his cohort. Sure it wouldn't bring Rossi back or pull Emily out of her coma, but it would make us feel better. "It's just...what she said to me, a...about how much she'd miss us and how there are certain people who always go out of their way to make others smile..." she snapped her gaze up and said determinedly, "we have to find them,"

"We will," Hotch said stoically. Looking over in the direction of his voice, I waited for him to continue, "but honestly, we have no leads. We have no idea where they could have gone. We don't even know what his accomplice looks like,"

"So? Sure, we don't know where they went, but we could get a warrant for Doyle's arrest -"

"We've done that already," Hotch interrupted quietly.

"Ok, we could call Clyde Easter and find out if he can help,"

"He's on a plane heading here as we speak," Garcia piped up from behind me. When I glanced at her, she added, "He wants to help catch Doyle as much as we do. Oh, and Tsia coming too."

Turning back towards Hotch, I said, "We'll catch them once they show up. But first," I reached for my videotape, fumbling around on my desk before my hands grabbed it, "can we watch these? I'm interested in what Emily said to everyone. It could help us find Doyle,"

"Sure, but when Morgan and Seaver get here,"

Nodding, I sat down in my chair. Morgan showed up around half an hour later, citing traffic for being second-last. Seaver showed up about fifteen minutes later. By the time they'd showed up, my foggy vision had become more bearable, to my relief. However, I could see and hear water dripping slowly from the ceiling. Attempting to brush it off, I firmly looked away as we began to watch the videos. The beginning portion of each one was the same, but when the second part began, that's when each one was different.

In Hotch's video, Emily spoke of how when she'd first joined the team, he, like most of the team, had taken time to warm up to her. However, in the end he ended up being someone that she would give her life for. She spoke of how he needed to be there for Jack, of he'd end up with a parent who was never there, like her and her parents. In Garcia's she spoke of how Garcia had the ability to brighten the day of any individual and would always make anyone feel welcome. In Morgan's she talked about how Morgan has difficulty trusting people, so that losing her is going to be difficult, but that he has to realize that she did it for them. She also told him that he's one of the strongest people she's ever met. In Seaver's she spoke of how, even though she didn't know her as well as the others, she knew that she was a kind and caring individual who'd been through a lot. And mine's already been seen.

As important as the videos could be to help find out where Doyle was, I was having difficulty concentrated. My mind kept replaying Doyle's words to me. He'd told me that my mother was dying. As soon as we finished watching these videos, I promised myself to call her. However, by the end of all the videos, we were all relatively sad and nowhere nearer to finding out where Doyle was or the identity of his accomplice. All we could do is wait for Tsia and Clyde.

Glancing around the room, I excused myself for a moment before walking into the men's room. Shaking, I pulled out my cell phone and dialled the Bennington Sanitarium. Holding the phone to my ear, I waited for a response.

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**What will happen to Emily? Will she wake up from her coma? What about Diana Reid? Is she _really_ dying? You'll just have to wait to find out.  
I feel so evil:)**


	14. Chapter 14

**After 35 days of waiting, I finally give chapter 14. I am so sorry for taking this long. It being summer and all, I expected to have more time to write, not less. Hopefully you guys don't hate me. I'm not sure how many chapters are left in this story. I think I could finish in about 2-5 chapters, but you'll just have to keep waiting until I decide.**

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Standing in the bathroom, I stared back at my reflection. The only sounds that reached my ears were my careful, quiet breaths and the ringing as my phone dialled the Bennigton Santitarium. After a few more seconds of praying to whatever deity was out there for my mother's health, the phone was picked up. Breathing a sigh of relief, I said quickly before the person on the other end had a chance to speak, "Hi, I'm Spencer Reid. I was wondering if I could talk to my mother, Diana Reid?"

Shaking, I listened carefully to the reply, "I'm transferring you over to Doctor Norman right now,"

Sighing softly, I sat down on the counter, swinging my feet impatiently. Looking up, I watched the bathroom door open and was greeted by Morgan. Smiling weakly at him, I concentrated on my phone conversation.

Dr. Norman picked up, beginning with a hesitant hello. After reminding him who I was, I asked if I could talk to my mother. He paused for a moment and for a minute, I feared the worst.

Turning away from Morgan, I asked quietly, "Is she alright?"

"It's nothing serious, I can assure you-"

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm her son. Don't you think that I would care if my mother's not feeling well?"

"We _have_ been calling you," he said calmly, "you haven't been picking up,"

I didn't respond. In my mind, I was examining my apartment, trying to remember if I had any messages on my phone. Dr. Norman's voice brought me back to the present. "Do you want to know what's wrong?"

"Yes," I whispered, glancing over at Morgan for a moment.

"She's suffering from Hemiplegic migraines. They're hereditary migraines. They're very rare and usually cause temporary paralysis on one side of the body."

"Paralysis?" I choked out, staring at my feet in horror. "My mother's paralyzed?"

"Well, no. We first noticed that something was wrong when she began complaining of numbness in her hands and feet. But we assure you that she'll be back on her feet in no time." After bidding me farewell, he hung up the phone. Pulling my cell phone from my ear, I looked at it for a moment before looking at Morgan. Finding my voice, I said, shaking, "My mother's not feeling well." sighing, I put my hands in my head for a moment before looking up at Morgan, "Do you think Hotch would give me time off?"

"Well, we are supposed to have two weeks off." he shrugged, then looked me dead in the eye, "You're going to go to Las Vegas, right?"

Nodding, I hopped off the sink, walking out of the washroom. I was just about to leave when Morgan called out to me. Turning around, he looked at me for a moment before asking me if I was ok. Shrugging, I responded, saying honestly, "I've been better, I just want to go see me my mother. I haven't written to her in a while, and she probably wonders what I've been up to recently."

"Well, Pretty Boy, you don't want to keep her waiting," Morgan smiled at me before moving to hug me. Hugging him for a moment, I let go. Walking out of the washroom, I glanced over at Hotch's office. He was there, so I walked up the steps to his office. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on his door, waiting for his 'come in' before entering the room. Sitting down, I asked, "Would it be alright if I could have some time off. My mother's not feeling well and I was planning on going back to Vegas to see her."

Hotch looked at me, "Of course. I gave you two weeks off and that offer still stands. I'll contact you if anything important comes up,"

Breaking into a smile, I thanked him profusely before heading back into the bullpen. Taking my winter coat and keys, I headed to the metro station, glancing at my watch.

The next train that ran past my house came in a few minutes. I would have to hurry to catch it. Hurrying, I barely made it on the subway before the doors closed and it began to move. Heading to the library, I checked out every book they had on the topic of hemiplegic migraines. Heading back home, I bought a plane ticket to Las Vegas for tomorrow and began packing before reading the books that I had picked out of the library. Hemiplegic migraines usually have an aura before the headaches begin. The auras are more intense than one from a normal migraine. While reading, I couldn't help but wonder if I had this condition. I hadn't had any auras for my headaches, but I had been experiencing auditory and visual hallucinations. I planned to ask the doctors if it was possible that I had this condition, and if I could be tested for it.

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**I know it's probably the shortest chapter I've written, and again, I'm sorry, but you might get chapter fifteen quickly. (Hopefully) I want to here what you guys think, so could you please review? I'm looking at you, the readers who read and don't review. 28 people have favourited this story and 45 have alerts for it. All I'm asking is for one kind review from each of you. Could you manage? It makes me feel better than knowing that someoe cared enough to check a box to favourite/alert it.**

** So, all reviews are welcome. Hope you liked it!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Yep. Your eyes aren't decieving you. I did say that you'd get chapter 15 soon, and I made good on that promise. So, enjoy!**

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I closed my eyes as the plane began its slow descent to McCarran International Airport. The five hour flight had been peacefully uneventful. I'd had a chance to reread the books I'd brought along from cover to cover at least twenty times each. Each time I finished a book, I became more agitated about my mother's wellbeing. I barely spoke to my father anymore and both sets of my grandparents were dead; she was all the family I have left. If I lost her... I don't know what I'd do.

As the plane landed safely, I reopened my eyes. Half an hour later, I found myself walking out of the airport, carrying my bags. Standing outside, I took a deep breath. Las Vegas was a beautiful city that brought back many memories. Hailing a taxi, I asked to be taken to the hotel that I had made reservations for yesterday. The long drive there from the airport was agonizing. I couldn't stop imagining my mother in a hospital, surrounded by wires. Shaking my head to get the dismal picture out of my head, I began to concentrate on the scenery of Las Vegas. It was still as beautiful as I'd remembered it, even though I hadn't been back since I'd found my father two years ago.

Once we'd reached the hotel, I thanked and paid the driver before taking my suitcase from the trunk and heading inside the hotel. The hotel itself was stunning, with marble floor, high windows and granite counter tops. Walking towards the receptionist who was on the phone, she looked up at me for a moment before continuing her conversation. I stood there waiting. having nothing else to preoccupy my time with. So instead, I looked around the hotel. There were few people in the lobby, but the ones who were in the lobby were sitting down reading newspapers.

"Yes?"

I turned back to the receptionist. She had put down the phone, and was now fixing her brown eyes on me. "I reserved a room here yesterday-"

"Name?" she cut me off as she turned towards her computer.

"Spencer Reid,"

She nodded and then turned around to get the key to my room. Turning back around she handed it to me, saying, "Enjoy your stay. You're in room 205"

Taking the key from her, I promised her that I'd try before pocketing the key and taking my luggage to my room. A few minutes later, I opened the door to my room. The room was nice, with striped sheets and blankets. Placing my bag down on my bed, I looked around one more time before leaving, locking the door behind me. Heading back downstairs, I hailed another cab to take me to the Bennigton Santitarium. The driver didn't question why I was going there; he only asked me if I liked Las Vegas so far. I replied that I'd grown up here and still loved the city. For the rest of the ride we spoke about the best restaurants and casinos in the city. When we'd reached my destination, I asked him if he could stay here because I was only going to be a few minutes. When he agreed, I thanked him before headed into the santitarium.

The receptionists greeted me warmly, most likely remembering me from my previous visits. I asked where Doctor Norman was and was given his whereabouts. Thanking them, I sped off to find him. He was with one of the other patients in the hospital. I watched him talk to the man for a few minutes before coughing to make my presence known. Both doctor and patient turned to face me. The doctor turned to his patient and said a few words to him before walking into the hallway, advising me to follow. Outside, I asked quickly, "Do you know which hospital my mother is in?"

Nodding, he said, "She's at the Spring Valley Hospital at 5400 South Rainbow Boulevard. Do you know where that is?"

Nodding, I assured him that I did. Thanking him, I headed out of the hospital and back into the waiting cab. Looking at the driver, I asked, "Do you know where the Spring Valley Hospital is?"

He turned around and nodded, "I've driven there many times. I can take you there"

Smiling, I sat back, waiting to be taken to the hospital. Even though I was sure that my mother was alright, I still needed to see her to confirm it. When we reached the hospital, I expressed my sincere gratitude to the driver and paid him before getting out of the car. Standing outside, I inhaled deeply before heading inside. In the foyer, I marched up to the clerk at the desk. The clerk looked up at me and asked, "Yes?"

Blinking down at him, I couldn't help but be reminded of the clerk at my hotel. I said, "My mother Diana Reid is here, and I was wondering what room she was in."

The clerk turned towards his computer and a few minutes later said, "She's in a room up those stairs," he pointed behind me, and I turned to see a staircase, "down the hall, on the left. Room 18."

Thanking him, I turned around and ran up the staircase. Finding her room, I stood outside for a moment before knocking. My mother's voice, telling me to come in, greeted me. Walking into the room, I watched my mother's eyes light up, "Spencer," she said, surprised, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit you," I replied, sitting down in a chair beside her bed.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, watching her. She looked at me for a moment before saying, "I'm just tired, but it's good that you're here," smiling, she ran a hand through my hair.

Smiling at her, I stood up, "Then I'll let you sleep," Kissing her forehead, I said goodbye and walked out of the room, only to crash into a doctor.

Stammering out an apology, I stepped backwards, letting him walk past me. He turned towards me and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Spencer Reid, her son,"

He nodded, picking up my mother's file and began reading, saying, "I assume that you want to know what's wrong with your mother, correct?"

"I already know. She's suffering from hemiplegic migraines." when he looked up at me, I rushed on, "I did research on it. I was wondering if I could get tested for it."

Looking up at me, he said, "You'd have to schedule an appointment. Do you live in Las Vegas, or are you just visiting?"

"I live in Washington D.C. I took two weeks off to come here."

"Alright," he closed the file in his hands, "I could try to get you an appointment in the next week. No guarantees though."

Breaking out into a grin, I thanked him. Giving him my cell phone number, I glanced at my mother one last time and left the room.

Walking through the hospital, my thoughts turned towards the unsub who'd been working with Doyle. Even though it had been Doyle who had told me that my mother wasn't feeling well, I doubted a wanted criminal could get access to sealed medical records. The unidentified unsub would easily be able to get her hands on it. If she was a current or former employee of the Bennington Santitarium, she'd be on file. If she still worked there, then she would've most likely taken a holiday and the other employees would have that on record. If she was a former employee, they'd know her name. Smiling, I walked out through the sliding doors, intent on getting a taxi and finding the name of the unsub.

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**Hopefully Reid can track her down. I want to take the time to thank you all for reading. I love reading your every review, and it makes me feel happy and cared about. So please go and review. As usual, all kinds of reviews are welcome. **


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm on a roll. I've uploaded, like three chapters this month. I'm so proud of myself :). The only bad thing is that it's almost done. Anyway, read on!**

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A name. In a few minutes I would have access to the name of the person who drugged me and held me captive with Rossi before killing him. Because of Doyle and the unsub, Emily was in a coma. I was determined to find and arrest her. Sighing, I glanced out the window, and was surprised to notice that we were almost there. Relaxing for a moment, I wondered how the rest of the team was doing. Hotch had said that if anything came up, he would call me, but I hadn't been contacted yet. I assumed that meant that I had nothing to worry about, seeing as I _was_ supposed to be on vacation, but I couldn't help but wonder what information Clyde and Tsia had on Doyle. When the taxi driver told me that we'd reached Bennington, I paid him, and stepped out of the taxi. Walking briskly, I entered the mental hospital. Walking up to the clerks, I greeted them before asking, "Has anyone been fired or taken time off recently?"

They glanced at each other before looking back at me, "Why?" the petite redhead asked, watching me curiously.

"I'm working on a case," I began, pulling out my FBI badge, "And it might help our case if I had the information."

They looked from my badge to their computer screens. "Well, nobody's been fired in the last six months." the brunette said before the redhead chimed in, "it's March Break, so a lot of people are taking time off to spend with their kids." the brunette said, glancing at the redhead, "Doctor Jessen is taking two weeks off of her vacation time, Doctor Kennedy is taking the rest of the month to heal from his knee surgery, Doctor -"

"Could I just have the names of women?" I asked, committing the names to memory. When they looked up at me, seeming startled, I continued, "We have witness accounts that it's a woman we're looking for."

"Alright," the redhead said, watching me suspiciously, "Doctor Peterson, Nurse Colson, Doctor Stoker, and Nurse Harker are all taking time off for various reasons."

Five people. We had five chances. If we were wrong about this, it might be even harder to find the unsub and Ian Doyle. Thanking the clerks, I headed out of the hospital. Pulling my cell phone out, I dialled Hotch's cell, knowing that despite the time difference, he'd be awake. After all, it was barely 1 pm Eastern time. When he picked up, I said, "Hotch, I think I might know who our unsub is."

"Go on," he said.

"Well, when I was with the unsub and Doyle, he mentioned that my mother wasn't feeling well. The only way he'd be able to know that is if the unsub worked at the hospital my mother is in. They haven't fired anyone recently in the last few months, so the unsub is one of the doctors or nurses taking time off: Doctors Peterson, Stoker and Jessen, and Nurses Colson and Harker."

"We'll check them out and get back to you," Hotch said, and I could hear him say something to someone in the background before returning to me, "Reid, you do know that you don't have to help. You're on vacation; you're allowed to relax,"

"I'll relax when we find them." changing subjects, I asked, "Are Tsia and Claude there yet?"

"They arrived two hours ago. They have a lot of information on Doyle. They're great help. So, we'll check out the suspects, and if any are in your area, we'll call you, alright?"

"It's fine with me Hotch. Bye."

After hanging up, I realized that I didn't have anything to do until my mother's doctor called me to schedule an appointment. Sighing, I decided to take Hotch's advice and relax. Hailing a taxi, I decided to head to one of the many libraries in the city. A few hours spent reading would make time fly by.

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**Such a short chapter. But it's supposed to be short. It's a filler chapter because it's going to get somewhat intense. So, look forward to chapter 17. And while you wait, it would be a nice idea to review. ALL kinds of reviews are welcome. Even flames. I can bake cookies for you guys with them!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Remember how last chapter, I said I was on a roll? Well, now, it's official. Chapter 17 is done and it's the longest chapter I've written. I'm so proud, but sad because I have, like, two chapters left. At this rate, I'll be done before I start school. If you're wondering _why _I'm updating so frequently, I would tell you that it's because I need to do something other than stare at my inbox waiting for my Pottermore email. **

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I sat down in the hospital waiting room, fiddling my thumbs, as I stared down at my mismatched socks. The doctor had scheduled my appointment for being tested for hemiplegic migraines today. I didn't have some of the symptoms (Like paralysis, for example), but I had experiences migraines and hallucinations, and having hemiplegic migraines was better than being schizophrenic. Even though schizophrenia can be treated, I'd have to quit my job, and there was no way I wanted that to happen. It wasn't very often that I wanted a medical examination to come back positive, but I needed this to be positive for my peace of mind.

"Spencer Reid," I looked up at the sound of my name. A nurse stood in front of me, ready to lead me into the Doctor's office. Following him nervously, I found myself in another room, with a raven-haired doctor fiddling with a stethoscope. When I cleared my throat, she looked up at me, "You're Spencer Reid, right?"

I nodded, and she motioned for me to sit down. Sitting down, I waited for her to speak. She grabbed a folder off of her desk and said, "I'm Doctor Murray. You want to be tested for hemiplegic migraines. So, have you been experiencing migraines with auras? Auras are - well, there's a long list of symptoms. I have it here - somewhere." she finished, staring down at her desk.

"I know what auras are. I've had scotoma and everything goes blurry."

She smiled, "that's good. Well, it's not good- you know what I mean. Alright," she said, crossing something off of her list with a pen. "Your mother is Diana Reid, right?"

When I nodded, she crossed another point off her list. Setting her clipboard down, she picked up a hypodermic needle. "We need some of your DNA. So roll up your sleeves!"

Pulling up my right sleeve, I shuddered slightly as she neared me. Swabbing my arm with disinfect, I looked away as she pricked my skin with the needle. A few seconds later, she pulled away, her needle filled with blood. "So, we'll send this to Atlanta for studying, and then we will call you with the results." Smiling, I thanked her, which she brushed off, "It's my job. I'd do it for anybody."

Despite her statement, she still smiled at me when she waved me goodbye. Outside the hospital, I turned my phone back on, checking for messages from anyone. Garcia had called, but hadn't left a message. Sitting down on a bench, I called her, tugging on my sleeve, as I listened to the phone as it dialled. She picked up, saying, "Speak to the Oracle of All Things Friendly and Good!"

Smiling, I replied, "Hey Garcia,"

"Boy Wonder! It's great to hear from you! Have you heard the news?"

Pulling my phone away from my ear, I winced. She was hurting my ears, "What happened," I asked curiously, furrowing my brow.

"Emily woke up from her coma,"

I almost dropped the phone. Grinning, I stammered out, "R...Really! That...that's **amazing!**"

"Yep, I just saw her. She's doing well for someone who's been in a coma for a few days."

"Does she know who kidnapped her?"

"Well, I haven't asked her. She just woke up, so we're letting her rest for a bit before we start asking questions. How are you doing?"

The sudden question change caught me off guard, "Me? I'm good. I'm just spending my vacation time relaxing. How are you?"

"I'm so much better now that we know that Emily's better. When are you getting back? "Cause Rossi's funeral is scheduled for next Sunday."

"I'll be back by them. My flight is scheduled for next Friday, so I'll be there."

"Good," I could hear the smile in her voice.

Changing topics, I asked, "How's the case going?"

"Tsia and Claude are amazing. They worked on Doyle's case with Em when they were part of Interpol and they have so much new info on him. We put an alert out for him and got his name and aliases put on the No-fly list, so if he's still in the State's he'll have a hard time getting out. We're following up on sightings of him. The team left for New York a few hours ago. There's been a bunch of sightings of him around there.

They wanted me to tell you that Doctor Jessen and Peterson and Nurse Harker are all in Las Vegas or the immediate area. I have addresses if you're interested of heading to their houses."

"Of course I'm interested. I want to find her as much as you guys do,"

"Great," Garcia began to tell me the addresses and I easily committed them to memory. Thanking her, I hailed a taxi to take me to the first house; Nurse Harker.

Stepping out of the taxi, I couldn't help but admire the house as I walked up the driveway. It reminded me of the one I had grown up in. Ringing the doorbell, it was almost instantly answered by a crying redhead teenager, she sniffed up at me, "Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

She brushed me off, waving her hand, "I'm fine. Are you here to see my mom?"

"Yeah." I nodded, watching her brush away tears, "are you sure you're fine?"

"Yes" she snapped before covering her mouth, whispering, "I'm so sorry. I'm just - well, there's no excuse for my behaviour." she held out the door for me, "Come in. I never got your name,"

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid," I said, walking into the foyer.

"What kind of doctor?" she seemed more upbeat than when I'd answered the door.

"Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering,"

She stared at me, mouth open, "How old are you?"

"I turned 30 in October," glancing around, I asked, "So where is your mother?"

"Oh, right," she smacked her forehead with her open hand, "you came to see my mom, not to talk about you," pointing, she said, "down the hall, first room to your left,"

Thanking her, I walked towards the room she'd specified. Finding the brunette doctor inside, I knocked on the door. She looked up at me, confused for a moment before recognizing me, "Spencer! It's been a long time since I've seen you! But," she furrowed her brow, "why are you visiting?"

It wasn't her. I could tell by the voice. But just because she wasn't the unsub didn't mean she couldn't help, "I'm working on a case," I began, "and I was wondering if you could help,"

* * *

Standing in the police station, I watched Doctor Harker through the glass. Looking over at the police chief standing beside me, I said, "I really don't think it's necessary to use a lie detector,"

"Didn't she kidnap you and kill one your team?" "No," I gritted my teeth, "she didn't I'd be able to recognize her voice if she had. I just want to know if she knows if any of her colleagues know Doyle. She could have valuable information to our investigation,"

"Fine," he boomed, clapping my back, "head in there,"

Smiling, I walked into the room. Sitting down, I said, "So, I have a few questions,"

Brushing a few strands away from her eyes, she smiled slightly, "sure."

Nodding, I began, "One of your colleagues kidnapped me a few days ago. And when I was captive, I found out that my mother wasn't well, which I later found out is actually true."

"And this means that one of them with access to your mother's files found out and then went to Washington D.C. to kidnap you," she finished, shaking her head. "I don't think any of them would do something like that. Are you sure you're not mistaken?"

"The voice was familiar," I admitted, "but I can't remember who she is. Do you know if Doctors Jessen, Peterson and Colson and Nurse Stoker were planning trips to D.C. or the surrounding area?"

She stared at the table, and began to slowly shake her head, "Well, Anna's in Florida, so that won't help..."

"Anna?"

she looked up for a moment, "Anna Stoker. She's trying to rebuild her marriage in sunny Florida. Beatrice Colson is visiting her mother in Indiana. I think - I might be wrong though - Lucy Jessen's daughter lives in Washington. It's possible she's visiting her."

"Doctor Jessen's not in Washington; she's in Vegas, but I could always go ask her," smiling, stood up, thanking her, "I guess your free to go. Thank you so much for the help."

Nodding, she said, "You're welcome Spencer. I hope your mother gets better quickly. I miss her talking about you all the time," Standing, she placed her hand on my shoulder for a moment before walking out of the interrogation room.

Walking out, I looked around the station for a phonebook. I needed to find Doctor Lucy Jessen's phone number.

* * *

**Because I got no flames, I couldn't make cookies. Instead, I made chocolate cake. Have a slice, my dedicated readers! All reviews are welcome, so please review. **


	18. Chapter 18

**So, this is the end of We're Going Down. This is the last chapter, so enjoy.**

* * *

I found her phone number. Smiling, I pulled out my cell phone to call her. If I called from the landline, she'd be able to recognize the police station's number, and if it was her who was guilty, then she'd realize that we were after her. And besides, she knew me either way. I vaguely remembered seeing her last when I visited my mother a few years back. Punching in the numbers, I raised the phone to my ear, pacing as I waited for her to pick up. "Hello?"

It was her. I could easily recognize her voice from the Glenn Dale building. Clearing my throat, I said, "Hi,"

"Spencer?" she sounded surprised, and I couldn't blame her. It wasn't everyday that someone you kidnap calls you.

"Hey Mrs. Jensen. I need your help. I'm working on a case in the city and I need a doctor's eyes on it. Do you think you could come into the station to help?"

"I would love to, but I can't leave my kids at home. They're too young to be left alone."

"Oh," thinking for a moment, I asked, "Could I come over and show you what I need help on?"

_Please say yes, _I wished as I waited for a response. Caving in, she said, "Sure,"

Smiling, I said, "I'll be right over," and hung up.

Smiling, I looked around the mostly empty police station for a moment before walking towards the chief's office. Knocking on his door, I waited for him to look up before launching into a speech about what happened. He advised me to head to her house alone, so not to arouse suspicion, but have three members of his force a block away as backup. I took his idea, after all, it was a good one, and in case anything happened to me, I'd have people with me.

We walked out of his office together. In the bullpen he called out to the three people still around, a dark-skinned brunette, a tall blond and a tanned woman with umber coloured hair, "Lawrence, Shannon, and Riviera, you guys are going to help Dr. Reid here," he clapped me on the back as he spoke, "he's working on a case with the FBI and needs backup."

The three of them nodded and stood up from their desks. Walking towards them, I asked them if they minded following behind in a non-descript car and parking about a block away. They agreed and one of them, the lone man of the trio, asked where we were going. Giving him the address, he broke out into a smile, "I live around there. I could drive you."

Having no reason not to, I took up his offer. Picking up a file from a desk, I made sure there was nothing important in it and filled with a few loose papers before borrowing a pair of handcuffs from the police chief. A few minutes later, I found myself in the passenger seat of Officer Lawrence's car, being driven to Lucy Jessen's house. During the ride, Mr. Lawrence (who insisted I call him Bill) began to speak, "So, what bureau of the FBI do you work for?"

"I work for the Behaviour Analysis Unit. We profile unsubs - unknown subjects of an investigation - by studying their habits and behaviour. We're working on this case because they kidnapped one of our team."

He glanced over at me quickly before looking back at the road, "Did you find your team member?"

Nodding, I said, "Yah, but she was in a coma for a few days after. She woke up a few hours though, and she'll be fine," _At least, I hope she will._ Garcia had told me that she'd been doing well for someone who'd just woken up from a coma. Having never known anyone else who'd been in a coma, I couldn't gauge Emily's recovery against anyone else's. Looking out the window, I watched as the Vegas suburbs melted together and flew by. Trees, houses, and cars shot by my window. The idea of being face to face with Dr. Jessen was making me nervous; she obviously didn't have a problem with injuring people she didn't know, so injuring me, who she did know, was most likely in her comfort zone.

Parking, Bill turned to me and smiled, "we're a couple blocks away. Her house should be over there," he pointed down the street, "just keep walking, and you'll see it on your left,"

Suddenly, the sound of someone tapping on the glass made us look over at the driver's seat window. Standing there were the two other police officers. The brunette laughed at our shocked faces, "If only you guys could see your expressions at this moment,"

The women with dirty-blonde hair shook her head, coming up beside her, "just ignore her. She thinks she's hilarious," rolling her eyes, she suddenly looked up at me, "if you don't come back from her house in," she looked down at her watch," half an hour, we're coming after you,"

Nodding in response, I opened the car door and stepped out into the Las Vegas sunshine. Turning to wave at the three officers, I began to walk towards the house of Lucy Jessen.

Standing outside her door, I inhaled deeply, steadying my nerves until I had the resolve to ring the pristine doorbell. Seconds later, the door swung open and I was confronted with the red-haired Doctor Lucy Jessen. Forcing a smile, I greeted her, "Hi Mrs. Jessen,"

Smiling at me, she said, "hey Spencer," holding out the door for me. I entered her house, being careful to keep my eyes on her. If I let her out of my sight, she could easily attack me and take the time I used to recover to make a quick getaway. Looking at her, I began, "Um, Mrs. Jessen -"

"Do you want something to eat?" she asked, cutting me off with a smile.

Shaking my head, I said, "I already ate, thank you."

Nodding, she told me to follow her into her office. Watching her walk away, I followed her, being careful not to make noise to alarm her. Coughing, I spoke up as she turned around, pulling out a pair of handcuffs, "Mrs. Jessen, I don't really want to do this..." I trailed off as I saw a child, who couldn't be older than four walk in. He looked around the room, his mop of red hair partially obscuring his eyes. Looking up at his mother, he said, "Mommy, can I go to the park?"

She tore her gaze away from me to kneel down beside her son, "We'll go later, Jason, alright?"

Nodding, he waved at me before walking out of the room. Turning back towards Mrs. Jessen, I began again, "You're under arrest,"

Crossing her arms, she scowled, "Spencer, this isn't funny."

"I'm being completely serious," I said as I advanced towards her. Suddenly, I heard a male voice behind me, "Mom?"

At the sound of the voice, I instantly turned around to see a pre-pubescent boy in the doorway, wearing a confused expression. Before I could answer or turn back around, I felt a sharp blow to my ribcage. Looking up, I saw Mrs. Jessen for a fraction of a second before she sped out of the room.

Staggering to my feet, the boy commented, "My mom just punched you in the gut. Who _are_ you anyway?"

"FBI agent," smiling at him, I ran out of the room, telling the officers through the microphone in my jacket, "She's running,"

Bolting out of her house, I caught a glimpse of her distinct red hair running down the street, away from the cop cruiser that I knew was parked in the opposite direction, "she's heading away from you guys,"

"We'll cut her off," Amy (Officer Riviera) said grimly as I began to chase her down, pulling out my 65 Revolver. I didn't plan on shooting her, especially with the knowledge that she had two young sons at home, but if attacked, I didn't plan on being defenceless.

All this running was beginning to take it's toll on my body. I've never been the most athletic, and now I was hoping for the LVPD to intercept her. Seeing her vault over a fence, I followed behind, calling out to her to stop.

Ignoring me, she actually sped up. Groaning to myself, I forced my body to run faster as I charged after her. At that moment, I breathed a sigh of relief, as the police cruiser came around the bend. Mrs. Jessen skidded to a stop, putting her hands up in the air as Bill, Amy and Carla moved in to arrest her.

* * *

After we arrested her and began to question her, she told us everything she knew. She gave us information on Doyle, which the rest of the team used to track him down and arrest him. But the one thing she wouldn't tell us is why she did it. She kept tight-lipped on that detail. After a few hours of interrogating her, and realizing that I wasn't going to get any more information from her I gave up. Standing up, I sighed. She looked up at me dully, "Something tells me that I don't get to leave,"

"You get to go to jail, but I don't think that's what you meant,"

Shrugging, she stood up awkwardly, her hands held together in front of her, still handcuffed together. Eyes flickering back up from their position at her eyes, she asked, "Would you let me call my kids?"

Furrowing my brow, I asked, "Didn't you already call them?"

Her attorney, who sat stone-faced beside her, said, "she's allowed the phone call. You don't need to interrogate her over _that_,"

Blinking down at her, I pointed out, "In the state of Nevada, you get two phone calls, usually one to a friend, and the other to an attorney. She called her husband, and talked to her kids then, and she called you. Also," I rushed on; her attorney looked argumentive, "that only stands for three hours after her arrest," glancing at my watch, I pointed out, "it's been four hours,"

"I know the Nevada law," she hissed, glaring at me with green eyes, "I wouldn't be an attorney if I didn't,"

"Then you understand that as an FBI agent, I won't break the law for anyone," smiling at her pleasantly, I walked out of the room. Walking up to the chief, who had been watching the events unfold, he asked, "You have enough information to get a conviction?"

"Well, she _did_ confess, so she'll most likely go to jail. She could be there for at least twenty years."

"Well, whatever happens, it's been good working with you." turning towards me, he smiled warmly. Smiling back, I walked back into the bullpen to thank Bill, Carla, and Amy before leaving the police station.

* * *

The next morning, I took a flight back to Washington D.C. After the hectic last few days, it felt great to be back. After heading home to put my belongings back in their proper place, I headed to the hospital to visit Emily. Walking to her room, I could hear her arguing with the doctors and nurses over still being in the hospital. Smiling, I knocked on the door, attracting attention from the three occupants of the room.

Emily grinned when she saw me, gesturing towards the empty seat beside me, "hey Reid. Garcia was just here. She told me about how you single-handedly found our unsub,"

About to object, she raised a finger to her lips, silencing me. She seemed different than usual, more upbeat than usual and less sarcastic. Looking over at her doctor, I said in a hushed tone, "she seems different,"

"That's common for people who wake up from comas." he explained.

"So she'll be a completely different person now?"

"only time will tell," was all the doctor said.

Sitting back in my chair, I watched Emily for a moment before asking her, "how long do you think it'll be until you come back to the team?"

Fuddling with a wire on her lap, she shrugged, "probably a few days," looking up at me, she asked, "did you just get back from Vegas?"

When I nodded, she said, "Garcia wants to see you,"

Nodding, I said goodbye and headed towards Garcia's house.

Knocking on Garcia's apartment door, she instantly opened it. Hugging me, she said, "Boy Wonder, it's good to see you again!"

Letting go of me, I walked inside, and noticed Sergio on her heels. Following Garcia, I entered her living room which had a table covered in papers. Picking up a few, I noticed that they were funeral preparations. Flicking my eyes up at her, I asked, "You're preparing Rossi's funeral?"

Nodding, she said sadly, "yep. And I was wondering, could you write a eulogy?"

Staring at her, I stammered, sitting down on her bright yellow couch, "M...me? Why?"

Sitting beside me, she answered, "well, you were one of the last people to see him alive, so I just wondered..." trailing off, she looked at me, her blue eyes wide, "please?"

I couldn't say no to her, especially when she was planning the funeral and from the look of it, she was doing a good job. Nodding, I said quietly, "of course,"

Sighing, she smiled, "thanks," standing up, she asked, "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Do you have any cake?"

"Of course," walking into her kitchen, I sat back and thought about what I would say at Rossi's funeral. At least I had little over a week to think about it.

* * *

A week later, I stood in front of a large crowd. They were all expecting me to make a rousing speech about the man whose life we had all gathered to celebrate. Sighing, I began to speak, "We are all gathered here to celebrate the life of David Rossi. I worked with David Rossi for three years, but I knew and respected him for years before. I read each and every one of his books, committing them all to memory. He was brave until the end, always putting other before himself. He is also very committed to his job, enough to realize when a case resembled on he failed to solve over twenty years ago, and was able to finally solve it." pausing to let my words sink in, I looked over at the crowd, at the tear stained faces, and felt my throat close up. Composing myself, I continued, "David Rossi will be greatly missed by everyone in attendance, by his fans worldwide, and the FBI itself."

Turning to look over at Rossi's silver casket, I placed a hand on it for a moment before heading back to my seat. Sitting down beside JJ, she put a hand on my shoulder, murmuring, "good job Spence,"

Smiling weakly at her, I turned back towards the front of the church, watching the rest of the funeral unfold.

A few minutes after the funeral had ended, and I was walking towards the nearest subway station, my cell phone rang. Pulling it out of my suit pocket, I answered, "hello?"

"Hello Mr. Reid," the voice of Doctor Murray rung out clearly. "So, I put a rush order on your lab results," she began. Inhaling deeply, I waited for her to tell me the results, "and they came back positive,"

Smiling, I was about to respond, but she cut me off, "there's medication for it though and you should go to your doctor to get something prescribed."

"I will, trust me."

"Good," she said happily, but became sombre, "you seem to be taking this well,"

Shrugging, I pointed out, "well, my mother has it, so guess it makes sense that I would have it. It's better than the alternative,"

"Alternative?"

"My mother's schizophrenic," I informed.

"Oh, I'm sorry,"

"It's fine," I said as I walked into the subway station, "she's still my mother, and I love her the same,"

"That's true," pausing, she said, "well; I have a patient who has an appointment in five minutes, so, bye,"

"Bye,"

Putting my phone back in my pocket, I walked into the subway. Even though Rossi had passed away, and his office in the BAU would be empty and painful to walk into, he wouldn't want us to dwell in the past. He would want us to constantly look forward, and there was much to look forward at. Emily was out of her coma, I wasn't schizophrenic, and for the most part, life was looking up.

* * *

**I really don't know what to say. Thank you so much for reading this. Writting this has been so fun, and I loved sharing it with you guys. And so you know I won't just disappear, I have two drabble series coming up: a Harry Potter one about the Weasleys and another about Jack Hotchner and Henry LaMontagne. However, I need help coming up with a name for the CM one. Any suggestions? **

**As usual, all reviews are 100% welcome. And thank you for all you who have been reading We're Going Down from the very beginning. **


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